


Confessions Beneath Motel Bedsheets

by scifi



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (well i guess coworkers to lovers), Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, and come eating, as slow as a 10k fic slow burn can be, bed sharing, dan is scully and phil is mulder, handjobs, i should probably tag the smut hey, i wrote this in one day why am i like this, let’s just say there is, x files au, yes they have to share a tiny bed in a cheap motel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 06:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14514720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifi/pseuds/scifi
Summary: In a small town in Maryland, a young girl has been murdered.Special agents Howell and Lester, partners for seven years, are called out to the case due to suspicions that it was paranormal. With a mystery to solve in the sleepy town of Millers Grove, the agents find themselves spending the night in the town’s only dodgy hotel, and beneath cheap motel bedsheets Howell and Lester work out that maybe their partnership is more than it seems.





	1. Millers Grove Forest, Maryland, 11:13am

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 2018 phandom reverse bang! and based on [this artwork!](https://jumigs.tumblr.com/post/173519036592/this-is-one-of-my-works-for-the-2018-phandom)
> 
> (follow or come talk to me on [tumblr](scifiphan.tumblr.com))

Even an umbrella couldn’t stop Dan Howell from getting wet. Three drops hit his nose, rolling down his face and onto his suit. He could feel his toes begin to go numb. Even though it was April, winter refused to be fully shaken - the air was still cool, especially with the downfall.

Phil Lester wasn’t under the umbrella – not that it was much use anyway – instead, he was standing on a moss-covered log, his pale brows furrowed together, searching for a clue.

He had been doing that for an hour now.

They were tucked away in a Maryland forest, a couple of miles from the nearest town, surrounded by pine trees and police tape. Local police had called them out as soon as they discovered the scene and scattered as soon as Howell and Lester arrived. One of the officers had muttered that the forest was cursed as they fled the scene but that didn’t deter the agents; Dan didn’t believe in curses and Phil craved them.

No one knew the answers to all the questions that had accumulated in the few hours since the discovery, but Phil refused to leave any stone unturned. That’s why Dan was in the rain with a useless umbrella, watching his partner pace on top of a fallen oak.

“You’ll catch a cold if you stay up there any longer,” Dan moved over to the log and held out the umbrella; an invitation for Phil to join him.

“Just a little bit longer,” Phil waved a hand in dismissal, “I think I know what happened.”

“The girl got murdered,” Dan sighed, “The autopsy results will prove it.”

“I know that Howell, but by what?”

“Who,” Dan corrected. “Not what. Who.”

“This wasn’t your typical human murder.”

“This wasn’t a bear attack either. There weren’t any claw marks.”

Phil crouched on the log, “Not Bear. Supernatural.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dan sighed.

For the better half of a decade, they had played this game of cat and mouse, chasing the idea of the unknown that Phil craved so badly. His partner sought answers that defied logic and all Dan could do was purse his lips and play along.

“Locals say this forest is cursed,” Phil cocked his head, eyes narrowing at where blood stained plant litter although Dan doubted it helped him see. Rain dotted his glasses and with that, Dan held the umbrella over Phil, allowing rain to splatter onto his grey suit turning the material almost black.

“All the more reason for a killer to make this the murder scene. I know it’s a small town and the police don’t want to admit that someone they know could have done it but it’s worth looking into,” Dan reached out to place one hand on Phil’s shoulder – a reassuring touch.

“It’s supernatural, Howell,” Phil looked up at him beaming, “I can feel it in my bones and when have my bones ever been wrong?”

Dan rolled his eyes as he attempted to hide a smile, “I’ll run out of fingers if I tried to count.”

Phil leant into Dan’s touch for a moment before standing and jumping down off the log so the two could finally both be under the umbrella.

“We should go check out the body before either of us catch a cold,” Dan nudged Phil, “I don’t want to spoon feed you chicken soup just because you spent an hour turning the forest inside out.”

“You didn’t mind last time,” Phil smiled, his tongue poking between teeth.

If the weather wasn’t so miserable Dan’s cheeks would have been red with blush because he was right, Dan didn’t mind last time. They had been caught out in the snow chasing after what Phil suspected were ghosts but in the end were just school kids with too much time on their hands. They had both fallen under the weather and Dan had spent the following week in Phil’s apartment, feeding him soup and binging comedy television. It was always strange when they put the X Files on hold for a few days and swapped the FBI basement for Phil’s apartment and pyjamas. It didn’t happen often, but Dan couldn’t help but love those times, sniffles be damned.

He loved exploring their friendship outside of work when they were no longer Howell and Lester but instead Dan and Phil. He loved late nights that started with reading case files and ended up with coffee and a classic movie. He loved take-out pizza and a beer in his own apartment after a long day with Phil. There wasn’t a moment with him he didn’t love. Not even when they were both sick or stuck in the office after a long day of bickering.

He treasured every moment with Phil and if someone told Dan seven years ago that he would grow to appreciate his quirky, conspiracy-loving partner, he would have laughed in their face and called them delirious. He never expected to grow fond of someone so opposite to him but as time wore on Dan couldn’t fathom having any other partner.

Dan let a soft smile form on his lips, “Come on, if we leave now nobody will have to eat chicken soup.”


	2. Millers Grove Morgue, Maryland, 5:27pm

Dan rolled off his blood-stained latex gloves and ran a hand through damp curls. He didn’t know if it was from sweat or the rain, but he knew one thing; it was too fucking hot for a morgue.

Blood splattered across his blue scrubs and in his left hand he still held surgical scissors. The autopsy had proven nothing but the obvious. The girl was in her early twenties with honey blonde hair in braids and a heavy dusting of light brown freckles on her face. She was conventionally pretty -  as pretty as a dead body could be – if you ignored the deep red bruises on her neck.

The bruising was too aggressive. Not even a muscular man could cause such severe marks but there was no other explanation. It was a simple choking in the forest during the night -  in the early hours before dawn. Not a quick death but not a supernatural one either. The force of the injury was abnormal, but it still fell within logical parameters.

Dan dropped his gloves and scissors on the surgical table; He had an autopsy report to complete.

“What did you find?” a familiar voice filled the room as the door creaked open.

Dan looked up to find Phil walking in, two coffees in one hand and an old book in the other.

“We’re looking for a man of a muscular build, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. Could have been an ex-lover or a stalker or someone just wanting to kill a pretty girl? I don’t get why the FBI was called out, this is just your average murder case,” Dan said as he reached out to grab the coffee. Cream with one sugar – just how he liked it.

“Howell,” Phil mused, “I think we can both agree that something stronger than a human strangled the girl.”

“This isn’t-” Dan began but he got cut off by Phil placing the book in front of him.

“Phantom of the Grove.”

“What?” Dan asked as he looked down at the book. The cover was dusty, the pages were browning, and wedged between the open pages were newspaper clippings.

“Said to haunt the forest just out of town for centuries. This isn’t the first murder in the forest either, have a look at the articles.”

Dan narrowed his eyes before picking the clippings.

_ Nicholas Hale, 21, murdered mysteriously on the outskirts of Millers Grove. _

_ Renae Baldwin 24, strangled in Millers Grove forest. _

_ Charlotte O’Hare, 19, found dead in Millers Grove forest. Locals say it was the Phantom. _

“There’s more where that came from, Howell,” Phil sat down on the stool next to him, reaching out to thumb at the book. “Thirteen strangulations in over a hundred years doesn’t sound like a coincidence. I’ve read through all the case files and all victims show signs of severe manual strangulation and all died in almost the exact same location within the forest.”

Dan’s eyes skimmed the articles before flickering up to Phil who was immersed in flipping through the old book, “That just tells us that someone throughout the years has mimicked the modus operandi of previously unsolved murders knowing that the local authority would just palm it off as paranormal.”

Phil looked up at him for a moment, his eyes holding the deadpan stare Dan knew all too well. It was the stare that meant ‘I appreciate your attempt but that’s not how it is’.

“I found this in the library about local folklore and look at the Phantom of the Grove,” Phil nudged the book at Dan again, the book was open to a page with a large shadowy figure and faded text.

“Small town mythology is just a way to explain what the populations choose to deny,” Dan sighed as he read the page.

It was vague; lacking detail and relying on collective fear. It wasn’t hard to make people fear an eight-foot shadow monster who lures young people into the forest only to strangle them to death and feed on their soul. At least that’s what the lore said.

“Or maybe it has been living in that forest for centuries and is the reason for the latest murder,” Phil raised his brows. “The creature is said to feed on humans.”

“You’re not serious?” Dan raised his brows, not buying it.

His pale eyes searched Dan’s for a hint of leniency but Dan just stared back in a mix of disbelief and how easy it was to lose himself in Phil’s eyes. They were just blue although in terrible morgue lighting they looked almost ash grey. His eyes were always entrancing and that had been a fatal flaw to their partnership since the beginning. For well over seven years Dan had found himself lost in Phil’s gaze and the emotions held within it.

“Howell?” Phil leant across to wave his hand in front of Dan, pulling him back into focus.

“I still want the police chief to compile a list of suspects and for us to talk to the victim’s family. Regardless of the phantom, I want to cross off all our options,” Dan told him, slightly flustered.

“Well let’s get going then,” Phil picked up the book before standing up, holding out a hand for Dan to grab.

“We’re going to find the killer, not the phantom,” Dan replied as he took hold of his hand, hoisting himself into a standing position. Phil’s hand was slightly sweaty. Maybe it wasn’t just Dan who thought the morgue was too warm.

“I’ll let you keep thinking that,” Phil flashed him his classic tongue between teeth grin and for just a moment, Dan felt his heart quicken.

It was silly that such an action caused his heart to race for a second, but it had happened since the first moment they met in the basement of the FBI; Phil hidden away surrounded by case files and sunflower seeds. He had smiled at Dan the same way as he just did, and it had sent his heart aflutter. As for why? Dan didn’t know or maybe he did. The answer was buried deep down but now wasn’t the time for Dan to dig up past dreams and whimsical thoughts. It was never the time to pull apart the questions that filled his thoughts. He had a crime to solve and a murderer to arrest.


	3. The Victim’s House, Millers Grove, Maryland, 6:31pm

“Hi, I’m special agent Phil Lester and this is special agent Daniel Howell.”

They stood at the front door of a beige house that blended into the neighbourhood. Nothing stood out about it besides the pink flamingo staked into the front yard. It was an average house in an average town. Dan thought it was unfair that someone living such an average life could become a murder victim, but that was always the way. It was always the people living behind white picket fences that ended up in their case files.

The lady who answered the door was not unlike the body in the morgue. Her hair was slightly more golden, and she was much younger than Dan expected, probably only 40, and her thin lips that were pursed into a frown.

She was the victim’s mother.

“I don’t get why the FBI is involved? It was the phantom,” the lady narrowed her hazel eyes, confusion evident in her gaze.

Beside him, Phil tapped his foot on Dan’s – a gestor of amusement.

“Can we come inside?” Dan asked as he pulled out his badge.

“Chief Coleman is already here, she said you two had a suspicion that it was the phantom,” the woman stepped back to allow them into her home.

“My partner has that stance although I don’t want to rule out the possibility that it was murder,” Dan said as he walked past her and into the house.

The home was just as predictable on the inside as it was on the outside. Beige walls that were dotted with family photos and certificates, wooden floors that were spotless. It looked as if it could be the home of any upper middle-class American. It was nothing like Dan’s own apartment or even Phil’s; teeming with life and individuality.

“Do either of you want anything to drink?”

Phil shook his head, “No thank you Mrs–”

“Tracy,” the lady cut in, “you can just call me Tracy.”

They went into the lounge that already had one occupant sitting on the tan couch and Dan recognised her from the crime scene this morning; black hair pulled back in a ponytail and dark eyes that watched the agents with mild curiosity. She was the officer that had called the forest cursed when they had first shown up.

“Police Chief Coleman,” Phil extended a hand out to her and she shook it dutifully.

Coleman’s lips pursed into a slight smile, “Agent Lester and Agent Howell I’m thankful for you both taking the case at such short notice.”

“Have you compiled a list of suspects for us to interview?” Dan asked as he sat down on a loveseat; the only available seat in the room.

Phil sat down next to him even though there wasn’t much room on the seat; their thighs pressed together, and Phil’s arms brushed his side each time he moved. Dan wanted to lean into Phil but now wasn’t the time. There was never the time for that.

“Not yet. We’re having difficulty finding people who match your criteria,” Coleman explained, “Until evidence can be found of a murderer we are considering it as a paranormal activity.”

“Chief there is a killer on the loose in Millers Grove I don’t think defaulting to the paranormal option is wise,” Dan pressed but his words simmered down when Phil placed a gentle hand on his thigh for only a moment. It was a sign to let him deal with it.

“Has anyone ever seen the Phantom?” Phil interjected, “Because from what I’ve read it seems harder to spot than any UFO I’ve encountered.”

“There have been some incidents but not for decades,” Tracy told him, running a shaky hand through her hair, “My baby girl was so innocent, she didn’t deserve this.”

Dan couldn’t bring himself to look at her so he brought his gaze over to Phil, hoping that he would reply with something empathetic but those words never came. So instead Dan took it upon himself to further his own investigation, “Did your daughter have any exes? I’m sorry I have to ask this, but we have to cross off all our options.”

Across from him, Tracy just shook her head.

Well, there goes that suspect route.

“Dan,” Phil whispered from beside him. They didn’t use first names often, especially not on duty so it was a surprise to hear Phil say it.

“Hmm?” He leant into his partner slightly to hear better.

“Let me just talk to Tracy about her daughter, I don’t think talking about plausible suspects is doing much good,” He said, giving Dan a quick smile.

In response, Dan just nodded.

Turning to face the victim’s mother, Phil stood up, “Tracy, why don’t you show me your daughter’s bedroom I have a few questions for you that could help me link this incident with past cases.”

“Sure, it’s just up the stairs,” Tracy replied as she got up from the lounge, leading Phil out of the living room so it was just Dan and the chief.

Now that he didn’t have to tread uneasy waters, Dan had the chance to ask Coleman what was on his mind, “I understand that this is a small town and even thinking about one of your own committing murder is terrible but don’t rule it out. Having an M.O to hide behind is something a killer looks for.”

“There is someone, an ex that Tracy doesn’t know about, but young Steven Baker wouldn’t hurt a fly. He isn’t even in the town much anymore, only when he visits his folks,” Coleman pulled out a photo from her pocket and handed it to Dan. “Good kid that one. Goes to college in Baltimore and comes home on the weekend. He’ll be back in town tomorrow if you want to talk but I don’t think he’s your killer.”

Dan looked at the photo, the boy was young with ginger hair; he looked like he couldn’t hurt a fly, but it was always the ones that looked harmless that ended up in handcuffs.

“Can never be too safe,” Dan tried to give her a smile, but it came across as more of a frown, “Is there anyone else?”

“No one, agent. We’re a sleepy town where nothing ever happens. The last time I got called out on a case was to Mrs Whitmore’s house almost two weeks ago because she locked herself out of her house,” Coleman said.

A smirk quirked on Dan’s lips, “Eventful.”

“You’re a sceptic,” she said, switching topics, “You don’t believe in the Phantom at all do you?”

“A local shadow monster feeding on young adults?” Dan mused, “I believe in it as much as I believe in the tooth fairy.”

“But your partner doesn’t think like that does he?” Coleman asked, “He seems to wholeheartedly believe in it.”

“As infuriating as it is, he balances me out with his optimism. I mean, if you can call believing in the paranormal as optimism,” Dan tucked the photo of Steven into his jacket pocket before standing up, “I think we’ve done all that we can do for today unless you can find any more suspects, so it’s best if we go.” He reached back into his jacket to pull out a card, “Ring me on this when you find something because I know it wasn’t the Phantom. It may be a small town, but everyone has secrets, you just gotta find out who’s hiding something.”

With that, he left the lounge room and headed up the stairs in search of Phil and Tracy. He heard voices coming from the far end room and could hear Phil talking as he approached, “Do you know any good places to eat?”

“Bernadette’s Diner next to the post office,” Tracy’s voice responded. “The milkshakes there are out of this world. Although I have lasagne in the oven if you’d like to stay for dinner?”

Dan could feel his body tense momentarily as her melodic voice reached his ears. There was something about her tone that caused something within him to unfurl. Was it jealousy? No. He didn’t care if someone else took Phil out to dinner. They were work partners. Just work partners.

“That’s nice of you,” Phil responded as Dan walked up to the bedroom. His words were wavering as if he was unsure of what he should do.

“We’ve already got plans,” Dan cut in, standing at the door with a forced grin on his face, “Maybe another time?”

“Oh,” Tracy’s smile dropped when she saw him. She was standing much too close to Phil for comfort. Well, at least Dan’s comfort. “Sure, another time.”

“Howell?” Phil asked with curiosity, raising a brow as if to ask what he was doing.

“We got all that we need,” he told Phil, gesturing for them to go.

“Well in that case, thanks for clearing up a few things for me Tracy, I appreciate it,” Phil reached out to take the woman’s hand and she took it, shaking firmly, “Either me, Howell or Coleman will be in touch with you as soon as we find out more about the situation.”

“Thank you, agents,” she gave each of them a small nod before Dan left the room with Phil following suit.

“What was that?” Phil asked under his breath as they walked down the stairs towards the door.

When they reached the front door Dan just raised a brow, “What was what?”

“We could have had lasagne,” Phil took a deep breath in as if to catch a whiff of the meal cooking in the kitchen.

“We have to remain professional, Lester. You can’t flirt with the victim’s mother,” Dan whispered before stopping at the threshold of the house; taken aback by what he just said.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Phil hissed from beside him, “I just like home cooked meals every now and then since we’re both terrible cooks.”

“Mhmm,” Dan hummed, walking down the steps.

They walked in silence for a few moments, Phil following behind. The rain from this morning had stopped but heavy clouds loomed over them, threatening to drench Millers Grove again.

As Dan went to open the door to their car, Phil spoke up, amusement in his voice.

“You’re jealous.”

“What do you mean?” Dan looked over his shoulder to see Phil smug.

“You’re jealous of Tracy flirting with me. If you could even call it that. She’s grieving and I’m nice, I’d never let it get more than just consolation.”

Dan watched as Phil walked around to the passenger’s side and pulled open the door, his brows furrowed in confusion at why Phil would even think that.

“I’m not jealous, you can flirt with whomever you want,” he told him as he got into the car, closing the door behind him.

“You don’t have to be jealous, Howell,” Phil said when he got into the passenger’s seat. His tone was softer than he expected and threw Dan off guard.

He didn’t know what Phil meant by that. Why wouldn’t he have to be jealous? It wasn’t as if he was jealous in the first place. No, he refused to even consider that emotion, but why would Phil say that? Dan let those words sit for a few moments as he turned the key in the ignition. What did he mean?

Dan blinked, pushing those thoughts aside in favour of pulling out the photo of their only suspect, “Steven Baker, the girl’s ex-boyfriend. He goes to college in Baltimore but comes back to see his parents every weekend.”

“It isn’t the weekend yet,” Phil said as he took the photo from Dan.

“No, but you can’t rule him out. When has a student never taken a day or two off class to commit murder?” Dan replied lightly, smiling when his response caused Phil to chuckle. “Coleman says he’ll be in town tomorrow, we can go interview him then but right now I really feel like a burger.”

“Don’t want to go back to the forest and see if we can find the Phantom?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head as he put his hands on the wheel, “Tomorrow night we can go monster hunting after we rule out any suspects. We’ll find out whoever did this be it Steven or someone else.”

“Or the Phantom,” Phil added.

Dan looked over at him for a moment as he pulled out of the driveway. Sometimes it was easier just to roll with whatever paranormal fantasy he was chasing after than to fight it, “Or the Phantom.”


	4. Outside Bernadette’s Diner, Millers Grove, Maryland, 9:50pm

“Remember when you thought a town was overrun by vampires?”

It was raining again, only lightly, but neither of them had grabbed the umbrella out of the car. They were both full from burgers, fries, and milkshakes but Dan wanted something more. They were off the clock now until the morning and Dan needed something to loosen up. The comment Phil made about jealousy was still playing on his mind and he needed to forget it.

“The town was overrun by vampires, you remember the teeth,” Phil nudged his shoulder into Dan’s, “and the glowing green eyes.”

“Vampires aren’t real,” Dan replied, shaking his head although it wasn’t with malintent. A smile still pulled at his lips.

“Those buck teeth turned into fangs and we both know it,” Phil told him, and Dan let him win this time. There was always a logical explanation to what Lester saw as paranormal but now wasn’t the time to debunk his partner. Now wasn’t even the time to talk about work. He just wanted a drink.

“There’s a bar,” He pointed at the neon sign ahead of them, three doors down from the diner, “Want a drink?”

“Just one but it’s your shout,” Phil replied.

Dan turned his head to face Phil, his lips parted in mock shock, “Why do I have to pay?”

“I bought you dinner,” Phil pointed out, “And you did manage to order the most expensive meal.”

“Not my fault the bacon deluxe looked so delicious,” Dan shrugged, “Just don’t order fancy wine or something.”

“I’ll try not to,” Phil giggled in response.

The bar itself wasn’t big but it was packed and for a Friday night Dan should have expected that. The dim yellow light illuminated the insides and music from a jukebox mixed with loud conversation.

“I’ll go find us a seat,” Phil leant close, so he could be heard over the noise.

Dan nodded, “What do you want to drink?”

“Something sweet,” he winked before walking off into the room.

He went over to the bar, leaning on the wooden counter but regretting it immediately when he felt his hands touch sticky residue. This bar didn’t look like it would have a wide cocktail range but by the looks of the bar, it seemed to have an impressive variety of beer for such a small town. Still, he’d find something to satisfy his partner's sweet tooth.

“What can I get for you,” The bartender asked, leaning on one of the beer taps. She had dark purple hair and was leaning forward in a way to show off her cleavage. Dan stifled a sigh and kept his eyes on hers. He knew she wanted to flirt but Dan didn’t want a bar of it, “Two of your sweetest cocktails please.”

She grinned, turning around for a moment to grab a liquor, “I haven’t seen your pretty face around here before. Are you chasing the Phantom of the Grove?”

“Pardon?” Dan asked, not sure what she meant.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she smirked, “People come out here to try and find the Phantom, you know, all those conspiracy nutjobs.”

“You think the Phantom is real?” Dan asked as he watched her mix different ingredients into two tall glasses; the liquid was turning bright pink.

“There has to be something out there, too many people have died in this town’s forest,” She placed the drinks onto the counter and leant in so she could lower her voice, “Heard it even killed someone this morning but the police are keeping quiet.”

“Interesting,” Dan smiled, digging into his pocket for some cash.

“That’ll be sixteen dollars,” the bartender said, “and if you stick around pretty boy I’ll give you your next one for free.

Dan placed a twenty-dollar bill on the bar before grabbing his drinks, “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” the girl smiled and with that Dan turned around, eyes darting around the room until he found Phil in a booth near the back of the bar.

As he walked up to where Phil was, his partner raised his brows and Dan shot him a questioning look, “What?”

“I thought we had a no flirting rule?” Phil took his drink from Dan as he settled into the booth beside him. Phil had grabbed the only booth that had only one chair.

“It was one-sided, trust me,” Dan rolled his eyes before taking a sip of the hideously pink drink. It was sweet, almost sickly sweet but beside him, Phil’s eyes grew wide.

“This is delicious!” Phil sighed.

“That’s because there’s so much sugar you can’t even taste the alcohol,” Dan giggled before taking another sip. The more he drank, the less offensive the sugar hit tasted.

They sat in silence for a while, sipping their cocktails, only occasionally commenting on the happenings within the bar. They had been partners for so long now that they didn’t have to scramble at conversations because silence was never awkward between them. In fact, Dan sometimes sought silence when with Phil because he was the only person who could give him nothing while everyone at the FBI was just noise, demands and heated discussion.

“You know,” Phil said after a while, when their drinks were near the bottom of the glass, “I understand how you feel.”

“What do you mean?” Dan asked. He had come into the bar to rid his mind of the topic, yet Phil dredged it back up again.

“Jealousy,” Phil added, “I felt it before when the bartender was basically eye screwing you.”

“Eye screwing,” Dan giggled. His partner always avoided swearing if he had to and the censored version was almost too endearing that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know what I mean,” Phil nudged him lightly in the ribs, “I have no right to be jealous, but I guess that’s the price we pay by being married to our jobs. We spend too much time together that I sometimes forget that both of us need a personal life.”

‘You are my personal life.’ Dan didn’t say those words out loud, but they screamed in his mind and he tried so hard to bury that thought.

Instead, he shrugged, “We’ve been married for seven years now. Doesn’t feel like it, huh?”

“Happy wife, happy life?” Phil winked.

“God, remember when that actually happened?” Dan laughed, tilting his head back against the leather seat, “Arcadia was a fucked-up place.”

“Pretending to be your husband was terrible,” Phil placed a hand on Dan’s thigh and squeezed lightly, “Not only were you nearly killed but I had to see you in a facemask.”

“Having clear skin is important,” Dan mused, his mind racing to the warm of Phil’s hand on his thigh and how he never wanted Phil to move it. The thought was silly, Dan didn’t really know where it came from but sometimes, when alcohol clouded his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder.

“You made me sleep on that awful couch,” Phil said, his words trailing off as he remembered the case, “I had a sore neck for weeks.”

“You shouldn’t have made fun of my skincare routine if you wanted to cuddle up next to me,” the words left Dan’s mouth before he had a chance to think them through and his eyes flew wide when he realised just how that sounded.

However, Phil’s response took him by even more surprise, “I’ll remember that next time.”

Dan turned his head, so he could look at Phil, who was staring at him, eyes dark in the low lighting of the bar, “Next time we go undercover as a married couple or next time you want a cuddle?”

“Whichever comes first,” Phil said, his voice low and almost too quiet to be heard and for a moment Dan thought he had misheard Phil but the grin that bloomed on his partner’s face confirmed that he had, in fact, said exactly that.

Eventually, Dan tore his eyes from Phil’s to look back at his drink, it was almost empty, so he brought the glass to his lips and took a swig of the dregs, “Want a second one?”

Phil did the same, gulping at the sweet remains, “Nah, I’m a bit tired since I hadn’t expected a call from you at 6am telling me we had a road trip.”

“It was a two-hour drive,” Dan rolled his eyes.

Phil pulled his hand off Dan’s thigh in favour of poking his rib, “You didn’t stop for coffee.”

“Because you were so excited about a small-town murder,” Dan poked him back, smiling when the action caused Phil to flash him a smile with his tongue caught between teeth.

“Was curious as to why it was palmed off to the X Files,” Phil giggled. “Do you think it’s too late to get a motel?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Dan said, “I saw one across the road.”

“Well come on then,” Phil nudged him slightly, edging him off the booth.

“Someone’s eager,” Dan mused and because his mind was hazy from the alcohol he added, “Eager for a cuddle?”

As he slipped out of the booth, Phil sniggered, “We get our own rooms, it’s company policy.”

Phil’s response probably didn’t mean anything, but Dan felt his heart sink although he had no reason for it to sink in the first place. It was just banter. Everything between them was always banter. They had known each other for over seven years but when Phil slipped his hand into Dan’s, entwining their fingers together as he hoisted himself out of the booth, Dan wondered if it was just that, or if there was something else? He was being silly again, of course there was nothing more. That question had popped up throughout the years and each time it had been answered but right now he felt warm. It might have been from the alcohol racing through his veins or maybe it was from Phil’s hand in his, fingers tight around his own.

Maybe he should have taken up the bartender on her offer of a free second cocktail. There wasn’t enough alcohol within him to numb the feelings that were clawing at him. Instead, there was just enough to let them escape and tear up his insides with questions that he shouldn’t be asking about his partner.

“Let’s go,” Dan pulled his hand away from Phil’s when he stood up, “I could use some sleep.”

Outside, it was still raining, even heavier than before and Phil pulled his suit jacket over his head to protect him, “I’ll go get our overnight bags from the car.”

“I’ll be in the reception,” Dan replied. Their car was less than a hundred yards from the motel so neither could be bothered to drive it to the carpark; it would be fine outside the diner until morning.

Phil nodded, walking quickly away in the direction of the car and Dan crossed the road. There was no one else outside; a stark contrast to the bar that had been bustling with life although it made sense. With a murder happening the night before and rain set in, no one would be wandering outside unless they had to.

The motel itself wasn’t anything flashy but they had stayed in worse before. The red brick looked garish compared to the older buildings along the main street and the sign out front was losing some neon lights.

_ Phantom Motel _

Dan rolled his eyes. The town knew how to capitalise on collective fear.

He opened up the reception door to find an old man at the counter, a Stephen King novel in his hands. The man pulled his glasses down to eye Dan, “You’re wet.”

Dan shrugged, forcing himself to think instead of allowing his tipsy tongue to do the talking, “Forgot my umbrella.”

“What can I do for you?” The man asked, putting his book down.

“I need a room for my friend and I. It’s short notice but we forgot to sort it out today,” Dan ran a hand through his rain-soaked curls in an attempt to stop droplets from falling into his eyes.

“Luckily I have one room left. 108, she’s towards the end.” He reached back to grab one last key dangling on a hook. “Cash or card?”

“Card,” Dan pulled out his wallet, pulling out the company card.

“And some identification?”

Dan grabbed his badge and placed it on the desk. He had to bite his tongue to stop giggles from spilling as he watched the man’s eyes widen with surprise. It wouldn’t be very professional for an agent to find such a small thing humorous.

“What’s the FBI doing in Millers Grove?” The man asked, contemplating for a moment before continuing, “I guess that’s confidential information, huh?”

Dan just shrugged.

When he had finished with the paperwork, Dan walked back into the rain. Phil was waiting for him beneath the walkway along the rooms, both their bags in his hand.

“You look like a wet sock,” Dan grinned as he ran the last few feet to shelter.

“Jeez, thanks Howell your flattery is making me blush,” Phil replied, pretending to frown but it was lost in soft laughter. The cocktails really had gone to their heads.

“We’re in 108,” Dan held the key up at eye level, “Let’s dry off.”

“No separate rooms?” Phil asked, pouting his bottom lip.

“Only one room left,” Dan returned the pout with his own, “Luckily there was one or else we would have been sleeping in the car.”

“It looks like we might get to cuddle after all,” Phil gave him an exaggerated wink and the muddled feelings that had stirred in the bar heightened.

“I thought we had a no flirting rule,” Dan mused when they got to their room. He placed the key in the lock and turned it, opening the door to a dark room.

“We wouldn’t fit in a motel single bed even if we tired,” Phil pointed out as if to debunk his previous statement.

Dan reached out to feel the wall until he felt a switch. When he flicked it on, a bright light filled the room and he could feel his heart stop for a moment. He hadn’t specified their choice of beds because there had only been one room available, but the man had not told him one extremely important fact. There weren’t two single beds in their room or even two single beds pushed together. No. There was only a double bed and not even a big one at that for two six-foot men.

Phil walked into the room, dropping their bags on the ground, “So what side do you sleep on? Left or right?”

Dan closed the door behind him. This wasn’t what he had in mind. It wasn’t as if they had never shared a bed before, but this was different. Previously they hadn’t had a conversation like the one they had earlier or been tipsy off sweet alcohol.

Instead of panicking like his brain was telling him too, or becoming flustered, Dan just shrugged off his saturated suit jacket, “I prefer left.”


	5. Phantom Motel, Millers Grove, Maryland, 12:00am

Most of the alcohol had dissipated and Dan really wished he had drunk more. Maybe if he had another cocktail or two he wouldn’t be so nervous to be in bed with his partner.

They had tried debriefing about the case and what they had to do tomorrow but it hadn’t been successful. Phil was a giggly drunk and hadn’t been able to concentrate on their plans without falling back on the bed in a laughing fit. Something about Dan’s hair drying fluffy seemed to be hysterical to Phil.

Instead, after placing their wet clothes next to the old oil heater, they climbed into bed with the promise that they’d wake up early to meet Coleman at the station. Dan had almost fallen off the bed when Phil took off his shirt. He had seen Phil shirtless many times before but there was something different about tonight. Dan didn’t know what and that scared him. He didn’t like the unknown.

Dan preferred to sleep shirtless too, so he copied Phil, pulling off his white tee and throwing it in the direction of their bags. It shouldn’t be weird, but it was weird. Phil was just his friend. His best friend and work partner. He refused to believe why it was weird.

The lights had been out for half an hour, yet Dan’s mind wouldn’t allow him to sleep. It was loud, screaming hazy thoughts at him and Dan kept ignoring them. He didn’t want to dwell on it.

Phil had his back towards him but even on the opposite side of the bed, he was close. The double was small, and they were large. Only inches were between them and beneath the thin motel sheets, Dan could feel warmth radiate from his partner.

Phil was warm, almost unbearably so, but it was cold outside, and Dan wanted to close the gap between them, so he could feel that heat blister his bare skin.

“I can feel you thinking,” Phil mumbled, and Dan snapped out of the haze he had fallen into.

“Not thinking,” Dan whispered, “Sleeping.”

Phil rolled over. Even in the darkness of the motel room, Dan could make out his features and see Phil’s eyes lock onto his, “What are you thinking about?”

“The case,” Dan replied, he could almost hear the lie in his words.

“What are you really thinking about?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, “Why was I jealous?”

“Hmm?” Phil’s brows furrowed.

“Earlier, when you were asked to stay for dinner.”

Dan buried his face into the thin motel pillow. It felt strange, saying what he had kept buried deep down all night. He didn’t know what had caused him to confess. Maybe it was the security of the dark, the warmth of Phil beside him, or the last of the cocktail in his system. Either way, he was suddenly afraid. He was afraid of how Phil was going to respond.

Instead of replying straight away, Phil brought his hand up to Dan’s and linked their fingers together, so he could give him a reassuring squeeze.

That touch sent warmth washing through his body from his fingers to the tips of his toes until every cell inside him was warm.

“I think we both know why, Howell,” Phil’s whispered, his voice gravelly.

“I’m scared,” Dan tightened his grip around Phil’s slender fingers.

“You don’t have to be,” in the darkness, Dan could still make out Phil’s smile. It was soft. Genuine. “You’re next to me in life, Dan. My constant, my touchstone. I think we’ve known each other long enough to understand why.”

“Why?”

“I’m scared too. Have been since you walked into the basement all those years ago in that terrible grey suit,” Phil said as he moved his thumb slowly against the back of Dan’s hand.

“Hey,” Dan whined, a little too loudly for the hushed conversation they were having, “It was fashionable.”

“You keep thinking that Danny,” Phil chuckled, and Dan stopped breathing. Phil never called him Danny. They weren’t big on first names, let alone nicknames based on their first names. Dan could probably count the number of names Phil had called him that on one hand and still have fingers left to spare.

“Phil,” Dan said under his breath. He never called Phil by just his first name. He had quickly learnt his preference for Lester when they started working together and Dan had grown used to it.

“Yeah?”

Dan unwound their fingers, so he could bring his hand up to Phil’s face to stroke his defined cheekbone, trailing his fingers down to trace Phil’s pale lips. Dan let his thumb linger, pad pressed against his bottom lip and Phil pursed his lips together to kiss it.

Something inside of him fell into place like the final piece of the puzzle. It was scary, but Phil was right. He didn’t have to be scared. No matter what, Phil was his constant. Life was always changing but no matter what happened, Phil was always by his side.

His heart was beating a thousand miles a minute in his chest, but Dan ignored it, instead, he closed the space between them and brought their mouths together. He’d hate to admit it but Phil’s lips were as soft as he imagined they’d be and fit perfectly against his own. Dan never wanted the kiss to end. He wanted to get lost in the feeling of Phil pressed up against him; searing heat on his skin and causing electricity to scatter throughout his body, causing every nerve to come alight. Kissing Phil was unlike anything he ever felt. It was perfect, and Dan never wanted to stop.

His hand went up into Phil’s hair, so he could run fingers through it. He felt Phil’s tongue skim his lips and Dan opened his mouth, allowing Phil in. It was almost overwhelming, feeling Phil like this, his mouth hot and wet, his tongue sliding against his own.

Phil pushed into him, rolling Dan onto his back so he was beneath Phil and the position allowed for Phil to dominate this kiss. His hands roamed Dan’s skin, running along his chest, neck, up to his face and into his curls. Wherever Phil’s hands were Dan could feel his skin burn and wanted more. Needed more.

“Need you,” Dan mumbled into Phil’s kiss, “Need you now.”

“Dan,” Phil whispered, his lips moving to press wet kisses down his neck, “Dan, Dan, Dan.”

“Phil,” Dan sighed, stretching his head back to give Phil better access. He loved his neck being kissed. It had been so long since he anyone had kissed him. It had been so long since he had been intimate with anyone. He always thought it was because he was married to his work but now, beneath Phil in a small-town motel bed, Dan knew exactly why. He had been waiting and finally, the wait was over.

Phil’s tongue ran along Dan’s collarbone before he nipped at it, “You have such beautiful collarbones. All of you is so beautiful Dan, how can someone be so gorgeous?”

Heat grew on Dan’s cheeks as well as somewhere south. Hearing Phil say that was something Dan never expected to hear but now he never wanted Phil to stop.

“Says you,” Dan ran his hand through Phil’s quiff, “you’re stunning.”

“You’re just saying that to get in my pants,” Phil hummed, stretching his head up to plant a kiss on Dan’s lips and Dan all but swooned.

“Maybe so,” Dan grinned in response before kissing Phil again.

They stayed like that, exploring each other’s mouths and mapping each other’s skin. Phil was so hot to Dan’s touch he felt as if each time he pressed a kiss to him, his lips caught afire. Dan’s hands wandered down Phil’s back, marvelling at how smooth his skin was and the muscles that rippled beneath his touch.

His hands slid lower, dipping below the waistband of Phil’s underwear to run fingers over his ass. In response, Phil pressed his hips forward into Dan’s and for a moment Dan faltered. He could feel Phil’s cock straining against his own and fuck, he was hung.

“Dan,” Phil whimpered, dropping his head into the crook of Dan’s neck so he could press wet kisses onto bare skin.

Dan groped Phil’s cheeks, pushing him closer to Dan until there was no space between then before grinding into him, moaning at how fucking good it felt.

He hadn’t felt another man’s cock since college, but those drunken nights couldn’t even compare to how perfect Phil felt. He loved feeling how aroused he could make someone else. He loved that he could make Phil so hard.

“What do you want?” Dan asked into Phil’s hair as he grinded slowly into his partner.

On top of him, Phil shuddered, “You, Dan. I want you.”

That wasn’t the answer he required but he’d take it. He loved hearing Phil demand him.

Dan’s hands left Phil’s ass in favour of pulling down both their briefs. Beneath the sheets, Dan couldn’t see Phil’s cock, but he could feel it, hot and twitching against his stomach, brushing against his own; the sensation made him whimper.

Slowly, Dan grabbed onto Phil’s length. It was thick and long. Longer than he could have imagined and Dan felt his mouth dry as the realisation hit him. He was actually touching Phil’s cock. It was real. It was happening.

“Fuck,” Phil moaned into Dan’s neck. It was rare to hear Phil swear which made it even more powerful. Dan was able to make Phil swear just by touching him.

Dan ran a hand along Phil’s length, memorising just how long it was. It was the biggest dick he had ever encountered and hopefully the last dick he would ever encounter.

When Dan got to the head, he slid his thumb into Phil’s slit, and the noise that it elicited from Phil’s mouth was downright erotic. Dan did the same again, slicking his hand with the pre-come that welled there before sliding his hand down Phil’s shaft again, finding a rhythm. He had no idea what Phil liked so he went with what he loved; a slight flick of the wrist on the downstroke and loose strokes, slow and steady.

As he found a pace, Phil wrapped a hand around his own cock and Dan could have died at how perfect Phil’s long slender fingers felt around him. A high-pitched cry escaped him as Phil began to stroke, copying his own actions.

“Fuck Phil, you feel amazing,” Dan whimpered as Phil rolled his palm over Dan’s head in such a way that Dan stopped stroking Phil for just a moment, too blissed out with how good Phil was with his hands.

“Wanna see you.”

Before Dan could even process the statement, Phil was leaning backwards, pulling Dan with him so that he was sat on his lap, sheets falling off their bodies. Even with those layers shed it still wasn’t enough so Dan reached over to a bedside lamp and turned it on.

Now the reality of the situation hit. The cloak of darkness wasn’t hiding them anymore, but Dan didn’t care. All he cared about was Phil’s cock before him, red and leaking pre-come, pressing against his own stomach.

“You’re beautiful,” Dan whispered, his eyes pulling off Phil’s cock, so he could look into his eyes. His familiar blue eyes that were crinkled in a smile.

“I can’t believe you’re naked in my lap,” Phil whispered, “After all these years.”

Dan felt his heart flip, so he brought his lips to Phil’s and shuffled closer, so their chests were touching. He reached down between them, grasping around both their cocks, his hand could only just wrap around both of them. Phil hissed into the kiss on Dan’s upstroke. The feeling of Phil’s cock against his was so overwhelming. He could feel him twitch not just in his hand but also next to him and Dan grinded his hips down, adding to the friction.

“I’m close,” Dan moaned into Phil’s lips. Their kisses were now sloppier with teeth and tongue but neither cared. Dan craved all of Phil.

In response Phil snaked a hand between them and wrapped it around both their lengths, squeezing lightly.

It was messy, slightly uncoordinated but Dan couldn’t get enough. Both their hands were moving along their cocks, faster and firmer each time and Dan couldn’t hold back the white heat that was building.

Dan’s orgasm hit him harder than any he had ever had and his vision turned white and his limbs became jelly, leaning forward onto Phil’s chest. His release spilt onto both their hands, Phil’s cock and their stomachs. It was messy, but Phil’s hand kept going, working Dan through his high as he chased his own.

“Fuck Dan,” Phil growled next to his ear as he reached his orgasm, coming all over the both of them. They were a mess and Dan marvelled at the shudders that swept through Phil’s body.

When his breath returned, Dan leant back to observe the situation. They were covered in come. Dan picked up Phil’s hand, bringing it to his lips, tongue darting out to lap at their come.

“Fuck,” Phil whispered, eyes wide as he watched Dan lick his hand clean. Dan kept eye contact the entire time, dragging his tongue along each finger, “Your tongue is magic.”

When all the come was gone from Phil’s hand, Dan placed a soft kiss in the middle of his palm, “Wait until it’s on your cock.”

He watched Phil’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and Dan had the urge to lean in and kiss the prominent feature.

“Thank you.”

Dan hummed against Phil’s neck in question.

“For everything Howell. Thank you for what just happened,” Phil wrapped his arms around Dan, pulling him into a hug, ignoring the mess still between them.

“You’re my everything, Lester,” Dan mumbled against Phil’s skin, “It just took me seven years to realise what that meant.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, soaking up the post-orgasm bliss. If someone told Dan before he joined the X Files that he’d be in a motel in the middle of nowhere with his partner’s come all over him, Dan would never have believed that, but it was real. It was so damn real, and Dan loved it.

He wouldn’t trade what they had for the world.


	6. Phantom Motel, Millers Grove, Maryland, 6:30am

Dan was woken by the phone ringing and he groaned, reaching over to pull it off the hook for a moment.

He regretted ordering a wakeup call.

He felt heavy limbs on top of him; an arm curled around his waist and a leg wedged between his own. Phil’s face was pressed into his chest and Dan could feel his partner’s slow breathing.

_Partner._

That word held more than one meaning now but maybe it always did. Phil wasn’t just his work partner anymore. He was his life partner and if what had happened last night continued, also his romantic partner. He was everything

Memories from last night came back to him; confessions aided by a cocktail hazed mind beneath cheap motel bedsheets. Phil’s lips on his for the first time and how undeniably well they fit together. His hands sweeping Phil’s body, entranced by how smooth his skin was. Both their hands wrapped around their cocks, bringing each other to orgasm. The taste of their come on his tongue. The way Phil held his naked body they came down off their high.

It had been perfect. So perfect that Dan could have thought it had been a dream if it wasn’t for Phil pressed against him in their impossibly small double bed.

“Morning,” Dan mumbled, his voice deep with sleep. He ran fingers along Phil’s shoulders and down his back, hoping the light touches would stir him.

“Morning,” Phil replied into Dan’s chest, arm tightening around his waist.

“We gotta get up,” Dan pressed a kiss to Phil’s hair.

He got to do that now; kiss Phil whenever he wanted. He never even realised how much such a slight action could make his heart flutter, but kissing Phil caused butterflies to spring to life inside him.

“Want to stay in bed with you,” Phil kissed Dan’s chest, sleep heavily coating his words.

“Same here,” Dan sighed, “but we have a murderer to catch.”

Phil hummed something intelligible into Dan’s chest before tilting his head up and opening his eyes, “we have a phantom to find.”

“We’ll see,” Dan smirked, “Now come here you, I wanna kiss your pretty face.”

Phil smiled before moving up to kiss him and Dan swooned. Last night was very much real and very much not a dream. Phil was really in his arms, soft lips against his. It wasn’t weird or awkward and there were no questions left to ask. It felt right, what they had. It felt as natural as breathing. Dan didn’t believe in much, but he sure did believe in fate and he believed that fate’s divine plan had brought them together.

They moved to the shower eventually, barely fitting into the small space but neither minded being pressed together under running water.

Dan could get used to this. Very used to this and he could feel that Phil felt the same. He could get used to waking up beside Phil every day, building upon the life they had already made together.

Outside the clouds had parted and sunlight warmed Dan’s skin. Maybe Phil would take it as a sign of new beginnings, that the shift between them was right but Dan didn’t need to reach for symbolism to know that it was right. They would sweat the small stuff when it happened but for now, he was happy with what they had.

Dan was sitting in their car outside Bernadette’s diner, skimming the details of their case. It was too early on a Saturday morning to be thinking about work, but sweet relief came in the form of the passenger’s door swinging open and a tray with two coffees’ being handed to him.

“The largest extra strong coffee they had with cream,” Phil slid into the seat, brown bag in his other hand, “and cream cheese bagels.”

“Lester, I love you,” Dan said as he took his coffee, pausing when he realised what he said.

Softly, Phil replied, “I love you too.”

It wasn’t the first time they had said those words, but it was the first time where it meant something different. This confession was more than just appreciating the person as a friend and colleague. This was loving the other wholeheartedly in every way they could.

“I got Bernadette to give us extra cream,” Phil pulled out a bagel and handed it to Dan.

“I thought I gave you the extra cream already?” Dan smirked before taking a bite.

Beside him, Phil burst into laughter, “I thought we had a no flirting policy?”

“That only applies to other people, we’re immune from that rule,” Dan winked.

“Good,” Phil said still chuckling, “Now let’s enjoy our breakfast before monster hunting.”

“Are we really going to spend tonight in the forest? I can think of much more beneficial ways to spend the night,” Dan asked between sips of his coffee, glad that Phil ordered it extra strong.

“Does your plan include that mouth of yours?”

Dan grinned, “Maybe.”

Phil pushed his glasses up his brow, contemplating his decision for a few moments, “A mass murdering monster nobody has ever seen versus the best blowjob of my life? How can I possibly pick?”

“You’re right, I don’t stand a chance,” Dan sighed dramatically, leaning over to Phil to steal a kiss. There was nobody in the street this early on a Saturday, so Dan happily allowed himself this moment.

Later they would start their day as Howell and Lester, FBI agents in the X Files, partners who somehow balanced themselves perfectly in every case, finding the answers to the unknown somewhere in the middle. Now they were just Dan and Phil, best friends starting the next chapter of their lives together. Tonight, they would be lovers, learning every inch of each other’s bodies in the most intimate way they could imagine.

As he sat in their car, lips pressed against Phil’s, Dan couldn’t help but think about what awaited them. One day, the nature of their relationship would be brought into question by those who outranked them, but Dan didn’t care. He didn’t care about the semantics of what they were or the implications it had on their career because no matter what happens, Phil would be beside him every step of the way.

He was Dan’s touchstone after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hello to me on [tumblr](https://scifiphan.tumblr.com) \+ [the tumblr post for cbmb](https://scifiphan.tumblr.com/post/173519143061/confessions-beneath-motel-bedsheets)


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